


who needs true love

by growlery



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Best Friends, F/F, Morning After, Texts From Last Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-09 22:37:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2000541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/growlery/pseuds/growlery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(913): I was really disappointed no one would drink beer from our cleavage last night except for us.</p>
            </blockquote>





	who needs true love

**Author's Note:**

> rejected entry for summerpornathon's challenge #1: texts from last night, inspired by [this](http://texts-fromcamelot.tumblr.com/post/58795987216). thanks to croissantkatie for talking it out with me <3

Morgana wakes up with the hangover from hell, which is not a surprise, on top of Gwen, which kind of is. Gwen, however, is not awake yet, so Morgana rolls over and pokes her in the side until she makes a noise that sounds vaguely like, "Leave me the fuck alone, Morgana."

"How much did we drink last night?" Morgana asks.

"Enough that Arthur said you were embarrassing yourself," Gwen mumbles into the pillow, "and him, which was the important thing-"

"Cheeky little shit."

"So he called us a taxi home, except you threw up even though we both promised the guy you wouldn't and we didn't have enough for the surcharge-"

"Fuck, I knew I shouldn't have had that fifth round of shots."

"So we had to do a runner and your flat was closest and drunk you was really insistent about me not walking home alone-"

"Well of fucking course, Gwen. Sober me would be really insistent about that."

"So we basically collapsed on your bed and that's the last thing I remember before an uncomfortably vivid sex dream about Lancelot and then you attacking my ribs."

"Oh," Morgana says, and rolls over to stare at the ceiling for a bit so she can process all this. Then she frowns. "Gwen," she says, poking Gwen in the side again and getting another groan for her trouble, "why was I embarrassing myself?"

"We were trying to get people to drink beer out of our cleavage," Gwen explains, still mostly to Morgana's pillow. "Literally nobody would, it kind of _was_ embarrassing."

"Really?"

"Really," Gwen says vehemently. "I have no fucking idea why, your boobs are excellent."

"Whoa there, you don't have to fight anyone for my boobs' honour. Although," Morgana adds with a wicked grin, "you can spend lots of time with them if that would make you feel better."

"Do you know what," Gwen says, sitting up so quickly Morgana winces on behalf of Gwen's head, "it _would_."

Morgana beams and shimmies out of her dress. She's not sure what she's expecting, exactly, but it isn't for Gwen to stare at them very, very intensely until Morgana ventures a, "Gwen?"

"I'm committing your breasts to memory," Gwen informs her, not looking away from Morgana's chest, "so I can describe them in perfect detail and everyone will know exactly what they missed."

Morgana heaves a sigh. "That's not what I- okay, fine, show me yours now, then."

Gwen tugs her shirt off obligingly and, okay, Morgana maybe understands the whole intense stare thing because she has to stare for a few minutes, too. Gwen's boobs are _nice_.

"We both have excellent boobs," Morgana says, still staring. "The world will never understand what it missed last night."

"Exactly," Gwen agrees, and then they both sort of look up from each others' naked chests and actually, properly look at each other.

And then they start making out.

"Why," Morgana says, when they finally break apart, "haven't we done that before."

"I have no idea," Gwen says, and lunges at her again. Gwen is definitely still a little drunk, because Morgana's body would protest a lot if she moved that much right now, but Gwen is sort of a superhero when it comes to this shit. A superhero with alcohol absorbing powers, or something.

"I want to go down on you," Morgana says decisively, and Gwen makes this noise that Morgana would like to have looped in her brain forever, please and thank you. "Is that going to make things weird? I don't want to make things weird."

"Morgana," Gwen says, "you've pulled a stuck tampon out of my vagina and planted it in my ex boyfriend's pillowcase. The time for making this weird has long, long passed."

Morgana wants to say that this is different, that that's something lots of best friends do, but, oh, hell, this is _Gwen_ , and Morgana loves her in kind of a forever way. She's pretty sure they'll be okay.


End file.
